


A Night To Forget

by MaethorialBelle



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: A very brief bit of violence, F/M, One F bomb, Sexy Times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 04:07:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4125021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaethorialBelle/pseuds/MaethorialBelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen relives a bad memory at an even worse time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night To Forget

The sun had barely kissed the world goodnight before they surrounded the Kirkwall docks, thick fog ghosting around them. “Rylen” Cullen hissed over his shoulder, his eyes still fixed on the boat that bobbed ahead. “Have your men hold here, I fear we’ve no room to manoeuvre if we all approach.”

“Aye” the newly arrived knight-captain nodded, a gloved hand raised in the air to halt the troupe of templars that tailed him. Cullen looked to those left surrounding him, saw hesitation harboured in each shuffled step they took; his own steps were always sure, his grim determination out weighing any dread that seared his gut.

What remained of the Kirkwall templars were swarming the docks on the whim of a “ _friend._ ” As much as Cullen’s head protested giving merit to citizens that offered their knowledge of mage undergrounds and maleficar dens, rumour and idle gossip had been all the templars, and guards, of the city had to go on since it fell to rubble and ruin. So now here they were, cold and uneasy in the autumn night, as they attempted to unearth a shipment of stashed staffs; and more importantly the smugglers who supplied them.

“I don’t like this,” mumbled one of the templars flanking Cullen’s left, “I don’t like this at all.”

“Quiet” Cullen snapped, quick and quiet, his brisk breaths turning to mist in the chilled night air; his breathing coming faster still as a whimpering voice called out from the boat ahead.

“Please!” cried the disembodied voice, feminine in its tone. “I need help. I’m all alone.”

Cullen’s hand snapped out to snag the wrist of a templar who made to move towards the craft. “Keep your position” he mouthed with narrowed eyes to the disobedient knight as he looked to him.

“Please!” the woman wailed again, snatching both of their attention once more. “Please, help me! Help me! Help-” The woman’s cries for help warped into a wicked cackle and Cullen cursed his luck, cursed that his lucky coin lay useless in a sock back in his quarters. Bare lilac flesh, made even more haunting in the moonlight, revealed its self to them as the desire demon stepped onto the dock. “Naughty, naughty templar’s” it purred to them, a lazy finger stroking down its chest. “You’d refuse to help a poor woman in need.”

Cullen drew his sword sharply, the sound slicing through the thickening air. “You will die demon, do not doubt that” he growled through gritted teeth as he poised his sword towards its throat. “Rylen” he bellowed, “have your men approach.”

The demon laughed again, a sound Cullen had spent far too long trying to forget as his dreams came for him. “Have we met before knight? Do I recognise that longing in your eyes?” Its gaze fell to Rylen and his company as they neared. “How kind of you, handsome knight, to have brought friends for me to play with. Here let me show you mine.” The demon flicked in the air, the twist of its body seemingly a signal for abominations to flood the area as three stormed them from the boat and five more from behind. The desire demon itself looked set to flee the scene, the distraction of its pets providing an ample moment to slip away.

Cullen heard his name being bellowed and turned grudgingly, grimace in place, to the source of the noise.

“You have to go after it” Rylen ordered as he nodded his head toward the disappearing wisp of purple; Cullen could barely hear him over the clash of swords and roars, but caught onto the captain’s gist.

“You can handle them?” Cullen asked, honeyed eyes observing the commotion.

Rylen scoffed, “Please. We’ve two dead already and no casualties, we’ll make it.”

Cullen took off at run, a clap on the shoulder for Rylan as he passed, his heart howling _no_ as he weaved his way through the fighting. He saw the demon disappear into an alley; one he knew had no other exit, although he didn’t doubt for a moment that it was all part of the demon’s scheme.

“That’s it handsome knight,” its hum echoed through the narrow backstreet. “Come closer and let me fill your desires.”

“ _Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the maker be my guide”_ Cullen chanted, a litany upon his lips as he closed in on the demon. He rounded the corner with a steadying breath, his sword poised and ready to swing until he felt a pain scorch his mouth; the sound of his sword as it hit the ground not masking his cry as he fell to his knees. Blood blemished the dirt at his feet, drop by endless drop; however Cullen saw the demon’s clawed hand rise again and reached hastily for his sword, already bloody from his own wound, to slide it into the demon’s core.

Cullen revelled in its gasp; sliding in deeper, inch by agonising inch until it cried out his name. _Wait_ Cullen thought with a shake of his head; _that’s not right, that’s not how it happened._ He pulled out his sword to thrust in once more, deeper, harder. He gritted his teeth in determination, yet his name was still a blasphemous chant on its lips. He couldn’t stand it, had to stop it from sullying his name. He drove in and out, again and again; as hard, as fast, as deep as he could.

“Cullen” it, _something,_ called, he couldn’t tell. “Cullen, Cullen, Cullen!”

His eyes snapped open as the grip on his hair tightened. The inquisitor, his inquisitor, looked at him with wide eyes filled to the brim with worry for him. He was still inside her, still panting, still sweaty and still shaking.

“Makers breath” Cullen whispered on a ragged breath, “forgive me.” He rested his brow tenderly on hers, “I didn’t hurt you?”

She pretended her worry had subsided by replacing it with a smirk. “No, but you may have hurt my feelings. Lie back and think of something else did you?”

The skin around Cullen’s eyes creased he held them shut them so tight, “forgive me” he pleaded again.

The inquisitors smirk fell quickly, her humour not having the placating effect she’d desired. “No, I shouldn’t have pushed you into this; I know today’s been… rough.”

Cullen’s low chuckle rumbled through her, “I’d hardly say you pushed me into it.” The force of his sigh made her lashes flutter like a kiss on a butterfly’s wing, “I pushed myself too far today.” His weary confession impelled her to smooth a comforting hand up his back and down again, their heart beat’s slowing as a lingering silence possessed them.

“Do you want to talk about it?” The inquisitor asked eventually, cautious and calm as if prodding a sleeping lion. Cullen rolled them onto their sides, his hands on her lower back pulling her closer; a gentle sigh falling from her lips as his length slipped out from her.

“Not long after Kirkwall fell apart I led a group of templar’s to locate a smuggler, she was said to be dealing weapons to the rebel mages but it was a trap, naturally. A demon gave me this,” Cullen captured her hand to guide it towards his scar, her hand his puppet as he moved it over the silken flesh. His words turned to a rasping whisper, “the memories are worse on days like this, but I never thought-” Cullen closed his eyes once more, his lover seizing the moment to capture his curls in her hand, gifting him a kiss on his forehead to soothe his furrowed brow. “I never wanted to look at you and see all that haunts me”.

Her gasp was quiet, a spilt secret not meant for his ears, yet he had heard it and it shot a pang of grief straight to the pit of his stomach. “Is that what you see?” she questioned huskily; Cullen could see her grimace even as the dusk settled shadows over her face.

“No,” he snapped, hoping his harshness wasn’t misinterpreted, his voice softening as he continued. “No matter what may take me in darkness, you will always be my light.”

“Cullen” the inquisitor cooed as she tugged his head to rest underneath her chin. He lay there in stillness, breath soft and steady, so steady in fact the inquisitor was certain fatigue had claimed him. She whispered a soft _I love you_ as she stole another kiss from his crown, her eyes drifting to a close so she could join her lover in sleep. They blinked open again quickly as she felt Cullen’s hand carve a path down her body, stopping only as he reached the soft skin of her inner thigh; she never knew that cold hands could leave such a blazing trail.

“May I?” He asked with lifted brows as he raised his head to capture her gaze.

“Cullen,” she sighed, breath already quickening, “you don’t have to.”

“Please, if you’ll allow me this, I want to,” his admission was spoken like a mumbled prayer.

The inquisitor consented with a nod of her head, a gulp stealing her words at the need that burned in his eyes.

Cullen crashed his mouth to her neck as though he was a starving man and her throat a feast fit for kings. His hands were just as eager where they stroked her; heavy touches, not their usual teasing, they were both too tired for that. The inquisitor was still slick from before, still wet and wanting for each wide stroke of his zealous fingers. She sighed his name as he pulled her skin between his teeth, her name a breathy groan on his lips that warmed her flesh as he nibbled. He could tell she was close already, his guilt growing as he caressed her harder; he knew it wouldn’t be the best orgasm, knew it wouldn’t leave her limp and lifeless afterwards, but tonight was about more than primal pleasure, something much deeper in them both needed satisfying.

Cullen grunted as the inquisitor’s nails dug into his back. “Please Cullen” she pleaded, “I’m so close.” She was much closer than she’d imaged, Cullen mused, as her thighs tightened around his hand, her nails digging into his shoulders as she clung to him; her orgasm a series of panting puffs that turned into giggles as she ground herself on him. He kept his hand rested between her legs as he lunged at her lazily for a kiss.

“Sweet dreams” he whispered as they parted, his smile as warm as his gaze upon her. The inquisitor threw a leg over him as he made to roll away, evidently not satisfied with the nights conclusion. She tugged his shoulders with a grunt until Cullen laid over her, her hips grinding on his length that sat pressed hard and hot between them.

“You don’t have to” it was his turn to say.

“I want to” she replied with a grin that melted into a groan as her grinding hit a sweet spot. “I need to- I need to feel you.” _I need that too_ Cullen wanted to say, but didn’t, he didn’t need to. His smooth, swift thrust into her heat beat a thousand declarations of his need for her. He watched her face as she pulled a lip between her teeth, her eyes fluttering shut under a drawn brow as he moved; each thrust deeper than the last and swiftly becoming faster. The inquisitors name was a sacred verse upon his lips, one he could recite for hours. Her own moans were muffled as she turned her face away, trying to allow him the freedom to seek his own pleasure without concern for hers. Cullen knew this, and although he loved her for the consideration, he wouldn’t have her thinking she was just a faceless fuck to help him forget a bad memory. He let go of the pillow that creased under his grip to slide a hand into the back of her hair, guiding her head back towards him.

“Look at me” he grunted, his face so close to hers their noses brushed with every fierce thrust. The sound of flesh on flesh echoed louder as Cullen’s thrusts grew haphazard. He buried his face into her neck, a litany of _I love you’s_ from them both becoming the new chant that filled the room until he came inside her, his groan long and guttural as he spilt every last drop.

Cullen switched their positions, not wanting to collapse on top of her, chuckling as he heard the inquisitor purr a satisfied hum. “Thank you for being here” he said, words distorted by a yawn. “Forgive me for what occurred before, I won’t allow it to happen again,” he promised, voice cracking with exhaustion.

The inquisitor snuggled closer to his chest. “Cullen, sleep” she ordered, already half way there herself.

“Alright” he conceded softly, his heavy lids agreeing with his lover. “I’ll thank you again properly in the morning.” Sleep overcame him quickly, and for that night at least, his nightmares had been banished.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Woo, my smut virginity has been taken! I hope you enjoyed it & thanks for reading :)


End file.
